FrancexReader Payment
by CountrygalxHetalia
Summary: Is there anyone that can save you from the horrid things you're forced to do simply for a place to live? What happens when Francis Bonnefoy just happens to see you fall?


"It's time for your rent." I swallowed and my breathing became shallow as my bottom lip trembled. My senses went into hyper drive as I held the phone to my ear. _Not again._ I answered quietly and hung up the phone. I was only just getting over last month's payment. I didn't have the money to actually pay rent, I hadn't been able to find a job yet but I had nowhere else to stay. The manager said I could stay… on one condition. I hated it. I always stumbled back to the apartment and cried myself to sleep; hurting too much and feeling too awful to do anything more.

I trudged towards the man's house, hands stuffed into my jacket pocket and tears filling my eyes. I didn't want to do this anymore, I just wanted to leave but I didn't have anywhere to go. I walked up the steps and knocked on the man's door. I quickly wiped away my tears and put on my normal, stony façade. The manager opened the door and grinned sadistically at me.

"I'm glad you could make it," he said, stepping aside so I could walk in. I nodded and passed him. The man was a sadist psycho and I could do nothing about it. He 'helped' me take my jacket off and led me back to his bedroom and pushed me in. He slammed the door behind me and hooked one of my wrists with a set of chained handcuffs. My eyes widened and I shook my head. My defenses were finally starting to kick in.

"Lemme go!" I yelled, struggling against the bonds. He laughed and threw me against his bed. I stared at him fearfully as he crawled towards me.

"Time to pay up _."

"Thank you _. I'll call you went your next payment's due," he said and shoved me towards the door. I nodded again and stumbled down the steps, hardly able to hold myself up. Silent tears fell as I heard his door close and I began my long, painful trek home. I was barely halfway there when an immense fatigue washed over me. I tripped and landed on the concrete. My body screamed as all my injuries smacked against the ground.

"Mademoiselle!" I barely registered that someone was calling. It couldn't have been for me anyways. Why would someone notice me? "Madam! Are you alright?" The voice had a very distinctive French accent. I didn't hear the footsteps until the man was bending over me. "Mademoiselle! Are you okay? I saw you fall and when you didn't get back up I 'ad to see if you were alright." I looked up and saw two sky blue eyes looking at me concernedly.

"I-I'm alright," I muttered, trying to push off the cold stone. The man wrapped an arm around my waist, making me wince slightly.

"'Ere, let me 'elp," he said, pulling me carefully to my feet. I looked at the man and saw how handsome he was. He had shoulder length blonde hair that was mostly pulled back into a low ponytail. His blue eyes were wide and clear and held so much emotion within them. His lips were pulled into a worried frown. He was dressed warmly, a thick coat, scarf, heavy pants and boots.

"T-thank you," I stammered, looking down and blushing. He tilted my head up and looked at me. My breath hitched and I tried to force back the tears. He reached up to wipe them away and I cringed slightly. His eyes narrowed slightly, and I couldn't tell if he could see a mark on my face or if he was suspicious of my reaction.

"Do you need a place to stay tonight ma chérie?" he asked, his eyes softening as he did. I looked at him and blinked a few times. He was asking a completely stranger if she wanted to stay at his house. A person he didn't know anything about. I thought the offer over however. I could take the man up on his offer and most likely have a nice place to stay for the night, or go back to my stupid old apartment. Then it hit me… does he want something in return? "I don't really know why I'm asking someone I've just met, but I just sensed you need someone. I wasn't planning on asking for anyzing in return, eizer." He was reading my mind now. I took a shaky breath and nodded. I didn't want to be alone in my apartment tonight. I couldn't handle it.

"I don't want to inconvenience you," I mumbled, fiddling with my fingers. He gently grabbed the trembling digits and laced our fingers together. I looked up to see him smiling softly.

"It's no inconvenience ma chérie. I'd be glad to 'ave you stay," he replied. He hooked our arms and started walking towards the other side of the street. "Oh, my name is Francis, by ze way. Francis Bonnefoy." I followed, ignoring the aching in my body as I was tugged along.

"Well Mr. Bonnefoy, my name's _ _. So you don't normally pick up random strangers off the side of the street then?" I asked, a wry smile making its way onto my face.

"Please, call me Francis, and no. Not usually," he replied, chuckling softly. I laughed silently, and fell into step beside him. We talked occasionally, just enjoying the silence mostly. Francis gave me a sense of calm that I hadn't felt in ages. I'd almost completely forgotten what I'd been through less than half an hour ago. He led me to a nice, rather large house and brought me inside.

"This is beautiful," I said, looking around the place as he locked his door. He grinned and placed a hand softly on my back. I winced again and prayed he didn't notice.

"Merci chérie. I never like flaunting what I 'ad, but I do enjoy 'aving ze space to live," he said as he walked up a flight of stairs. "Up 'ere madam." I followed the Frenchman up the stairs and into a spare bedroom. "Ze bazroom is just down ze 'all and I can get you somezing to sleep in. You can take a shower if you wish. 'Ave you 'ad supper yet?" he asked. My tired brain only took in part of what he said but my stomach answered the other part.

"Um… no, but you don't have to-" I tried to tell him, but he cut me off with slender finger to my lips.

"Oui, I do. You are my guest and I shall treat you as such. Do you want to get a shower while I whip somezing up?" he asked. I was surprised at the man's kindness but I was too tired to argue right now. I nodded and gave him a small smile.

"Yes, thank you," I replied, feeling tears prick at my eyes again.

"Towels are in ze closet in ze bathroom and I'll set ze clothes on ze sink. If you need anyzing else just call," he said and walked quickly to his bedroom. I made my way into the bathroom and started the water. I quickly stripped down and stepped into the bathtub. The hot water stung the many bite marks and small scratches along my body. I jumped at the soft knock on the bathroom door.

"Y-yes," I called nervously. I heard the door open just a little.

"I'm just setting your pajamas on ze sink. I'm going to cook some eggs, is zat alright?" he asked. I smiled at his kindness and nodded again.

"Yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you again Francis," I said.

"De rien ma chérie. See you in a bit," he said and shut the door. My legs grew shaky and I sat down on the floor of the porcelain tub. He was being so nice. I hadn't had someone treat me like this since I was a little kid. My parents passed when I was seven or eight, it's hard to remember now, and I was simply passed from relative to relative who never wanted me. I grew up and while trying to find jobs people simply shunned me for no reason and when I finally managed to find a place to stay, I had to 'pay' to stay there.

I broke down, crying softly into my hands. I didn't want Francis coming up here and seeing me like this. I looked down through my tears and saw the bruises and teeth marks the man had left on my arms, legs, and torso. I whimpered and continued crying until I didn't have any tears left. I stood up slowly, leaning against the wall for support. I grabbed the bottle of shampoo and gently rubbed it into my hair. My scalp still stung from the sicko yanking on my hair.

I bathed quickly and wrapped myself in the towel I'd gotten out of the closet. It didn't do much to cover my injuries, but it at least covered me. I stepped out and looked at the pajama's the Frenchman had lent me. They were made of soft, cream colored silk. It was simply a long sleeved, pull over shirt and long, loose pajama pants. I was thankful because it covered everything but my hands and feet and a small portion of my neck. I dried off carefully and pulled the pajamas on.

I exited the bathroom and walked tiredly down the hallway. I made my way down the stairs and into what I assumed was the kitchen since I could smell something absolutely delectable wafting from it. I saw Francis turn as I walked in holding a plate with scrambled eggs and bacon on it. I could remember the last time I'd had something that good. The thing I normally had to eat was oatmeal for breakfast and whatever mush the apartment could give me for lunch and dinner.

"Ah ma chérie, I was wondering when you'd come down," he said as he motioned for me to sit down at his table. "I hope zis is alright." I nodded vigorously and dug in the moment he set the plate in front of me. He chuckled softly and watched me. I swallowed the egg in my mouth and looked up at him.

"T-thank you," I mumbled, "you barely know me and yet you've taken me into your home and fed me. I honestly can't thank you enough." I stared into his blue eyes for a moment before looking down and continuing eating.

"You are very welcome," he said. I didn't see his hand until it was squeezing against my arm. I gasped and jerked away, tears pricking at my eyes as I clutched my injured upper arm. "Chérie?" I shook my head.

"Please… don't," I muttered, staring at my lap. He slowly gripped my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted my chin up. I stared into his eyes as tears streaked my face. His beautiful blue orbs were unreadable. He didn't utter a word but simply leaned forward and wrapped his arms around me. He was almost wary as his did so, making sure to just barely brush his hands and arms along my back.

"Je suis désolé amour. Per'aps when you are ready, oui?" he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. I sobbed weakly into his shoulder and he rocked me back and forth gently. He picked me up gently and I tried to hold back a moan of pain. He walked me upstairs and nudged open the door to the spare bedroom.

"Francis," I mumbled as he laid me down on the large bed. He looked down at me and hummed softly. "Thank you," I said, closing my eyes and snuggling into the warm sheets.

"You're welcome ma chérie. Now sleep. I'll see you in the ze morning." He kissed the top of my head and walked out quietly. I let my thoughts wander as I fell asleep, unable to stop thinking about Francis Bonnefoy.

I stayed with Francis for the next few days. He refused to let me leave the house, but I honestly didn't mind. I was enjoying spending time with the man. It was some of the first human contact I'd had in years. He made me breakfast and treated me practically like royalty. He was so nice and we learned about each other casually. He was kind, kinder than anyone I'd ever met. I don't know why, but my heart started thumping erratically in my chest every time he grinned at me. I didn't want to admit the feeling to myself. I refused to. He hadn't asked me about my reaction yet and I feared when he would, but I didn't realize that he wouldn't need too. I accidently let my door swing open as I went to change and as I was slipping on my bra and underwear, Francis walked in.

"Mon Dieu." I turned around and saw the Frenchman staring at me with wide, fearful eyes. He was staring at me; his eyes were roving the length and contours of my body. The ache had finally started to leave my body, but the marks were still clearly visible. The bite marks were very slowly fading from indigo and angry red to deep purple and dark pink. The bruises were no were near on their way to healing. They were still dark violet and near black. The scratches from the man's nails were bright red and puffy.

"F-Francis," I stammered, trying to cover myself. He walked forward, as if in a trance, and cupped my cheek. "I-I… I didn't…" I didn't know what to say. My heart was clenching in my chest, my throat was constricting painfully and tears were pouring from my eyes before I could stop them.

"Mon amour. What 'as 'appened to you?" he asked, wiping the tears away with his thumb. My lips trembled as I tried explaining through my whimpering what I was having to do. The look on the man's face went from concerned and caring to cold and stony. "You've been forced zrough zis abuse, just for a place to live?" he inquired, he voice hard and shaking slightly. I knew it was anger, not sadness. I nodded, unable to open my mouth.

"P-please don't h-hate me. I d-didn't know what else t-to do," I cried, falling to my knees painfully and crying. Francis knelt down next to me and pulled me into his lap. I bawled into the lean chest and clutched at the collar of his shirt. "I'm s-so s-s-sorry." He rubbed my back, minding the discolored bruises and bites.

"Shh mon amour. Everyzing's going to be alright. 'E will pay for what 'e's done, I promise you zat l'amour. I'm so sorry zat you've 'ad to endure zis," he whispered into my hair. Something I wasn't expecting was when he pulled my face up and kissed me. His soft, warm lips were moving perfectly against mine. I couldn't breathe as he pulled away. Red made its way up both of our cheeks, heating our faces. "Je t'aime." The only phrase I knew in French and a man I had only just met a few ago was telling me he loved me. Why did I feel my heart beat faster as he pressed his lips to my cheek? _Because you love him too._ I leaned forward and rested my forehead against his collarbones, tears dripping from the tip of my nose.

"I… I think I love you too, Francis. Please… help me… I don't want this anymore," I begged, holding onto the back of his shirt. He arms tightened around me and held me protectively. He wasn't going to leave me. He cared about me and he loved me.

"Don't worry ma chérie. I'm not going to let 'im get away wiz zis." I inhaled shakily, praying I didn't end up paying for telling Francis what was being done to me.

~

"Don't worry Francis. I'll be alright," I reassured the Frenchman as he turned to walk out the door. He sighed and let his eyes roam over me.  
"But... chérie," he said, cupping my cheek. "I don't want you to be 'urt while I'm out." I smiled and pulled the tall blonde into a hug.  
"It'll be okay. He's not going to get me. You said so yourself, remember?" I questioned, poking his nose with my finger. He sighed again and nodded. I kissed him quickly. "I'll be here, safe and sound, when you get back." I crossed my fingers behind my back, feeling my chest lurch painfully at the lie. He smiled and kissed me.  
"Alright. Je t'aime mon amour. I'll see you soon," he said and walked out the door. I took a deep breath and ran back to our room. After a few days, I'd finally calmed down but I just couldn't stand being alone at night. Francis had let me stay with him. I was able to sleep peacefully with his strong arms around my frame. I'd found out when I saw him pulling out a pair of pajamas that he kept a small pistol in his drawer.  
I rummaged through the tall chest of drawers and found what I was looking for. I grabbed my purse off my nightstand and shoved the little gun into the bag. I hurried downstairs, pulling my large coat on as I went. I was going to tell him I was done, I wasn't living in those apartments anymore and that I didn't owe him anything anymore. I just wanted to have the gun as a precaution. I would be done and here at the house before Francis got back. I stole myself for a moment before swinging open the door, hurried outside, and slammed it behind me.  
I made it to the apartment manager's house and knocked. I gulped loudly as I heard the loud footsteps of the man coming down the hall. I held onto my purse tightly and tried breathing evenly. The door unlocked and the door opened. The man's eyes widened at the sight of me. Then a small smile crept along his face.  
"Well _, isn't this an unexpected surprise. Please, come in," he said, trying to let me in. I shook my head and looked him straight in the eye.  
"I've come to tell you I'm not living in the apartments now. I've found a different place and I won't have to come visit anymore," I said, proud of myself for not stuttering or shaking. That changed however, when his eyebrows knit together and a dark look came over his eyes.  
"Well, we just can't have that can we?" he asked innocently. I gasped sharply as he grabbed me and yanked me into his house. I cried out but was slapped across the face. It stung painfully and tears filled my eyes. "So you think you can leave, just like that?" he questioned, stepping forward as I stepped back. He was stalking me like I was his prey. I reached for the pistol in my purse and he saw what I was going for. He snatched the small handbag away from me and threw it across the room.  
"Just leave me alone! You don't own me!" I shouted, banging against the wall as he shoved me roughly. He snorted and pushed himself against me. I squirmed and writhed in his hold, trying to get away.  
"I've owned you from the moment you walked in that door," he said and smashed his lips against mine. I tried fighting against him and was able to bite his lip. He yelped in shock and pulled away. I was reward with another resounding slap. I whimpered and collapsed to the floor. "You're pathetic," he said, crouching next to me. I tried shoving him off as he pulled off my coat and tore my shirt off me.  
"Let me go!" I yelled, trying to kick him. He laughed almost manically and I realized just how crazy he was. He began groping my chest when there was a knock at the door. "Help!" I screeched. "Please help!" He backhanded me and I saw stars. Things were doubled as I tried to look around. I was dizzy and I felt something warm trickling down the side of my face.  
"You little bitch," he muttered, pulling my roughly to my feet. I heard a loud thumping sound and then a huge crash. "Dammit!" I was dropped and I landed on my side, still unable to see or stand. The man ran, only to be followed closely by a faster, lighter pair of feet. They both fell to the floor with a bang and I heard flesh hitting flesh. It sounded like something was crunching. I tried sitting up and only succeeded in making myself even dizzier. All the sound stopped and there was an eerie kind of silence. The only thing I could make out was heavy breathing, a light murmuring and the light footsteps again.  
"Mon amour," I heard a concern, yet exasperated voice. I managed to lift my head and I saw two, bright, startling blue eyes looking at me. I smiled and tried to reach up for him.  
"Francis," I murmured, trying to stroke his cheek. He grabbed my wrist and lowered it. My vision was starting to clear as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at my temple.  
"_. What are you doing 'ere?" he asked, wrapping my coat around me and setting me up against the wall. I shook my head slowly and finally was able to think straight.  
"I was just coming to tell him I wasn't living here anymore. I didn't think he'd do that," I replied. "I had your gun but I couldn't get to it in time." The Frenchman's eyes widened at this bit of information.  
"You... you got my pistol?" he asked, cupping my cheek. I flinched at the touch to my swollen cheek but nodded and he huffed slightly. "What am I going to do wiz you?" I chuckled softly and smiled.  
"I'd prefer you keep me," I told him, the tears that had welled into my eyes finally falling. He very gently wiped the tears away and helped me to stand up.  
"I wouldn't let you go for the world, l'amour," he murmured in my ear. "I 'ave called ze police and zey're on zere way. Zey told me zey would take care of it. I'm taking you 'ome, and 'opefully you'll stay zere zis time." I giggled and leaned into his side.  
"I promise Francis. I'm sorry for coming," I said. He wrapped an arm around my waist and helped me out of the house. I could sense his eye roll and giggled again. "I love you." He hugged me tighter and kissed the top of my head.  
"Je t'aime aussi, ma cheríe."

~

"'Ello ma cheríe. 'Ow are you doing?" A pair of warm, strong arms wrapped around my middle and he cupped his hands against my belly.  
"I'm good. I wasn't sick this morning," I replied happily. He tightened his grip slightly and spun me around. I giggled like a little school girl and turned when he finally set me down. "I don't think I can take another four months Francis," I said, reaching down and rubbing the small bump protruding from my stomach. He chuckled and pulled me into a hug.  
"I'm just as excited as you are cheríe. I simply cannot wait until mon petit garcon is 'ere!" He knelt down next to my belly and lifted my shirt. I rolled my eyes and kissed it and pressed his cheek to the warm. I felt something cool, in contrast to the warmth of our skin, and I looked down. Silent tears were falling from Francis eyes and landing on my middle. I was about to open my mouth but then I saw what he was looking at.  
He was gingerly tracing one of the few scars my skin possessed. It was an almost full bite mark. The skin was no longer puffy and red, it was simply a indention of skin along the right side of my belly button. I reached down and ran my fingers through his golden hair and he looked up at me, eyes pooling with hurt and internal turmoil.  
"Francis, none of that was your fault," I told him softly, kneeling next to him and cupping the side of his face. He leaned into the touch and then hugged me. He buried his face in the crook of my neck and cried softly. "We're never going to have to deal with him again. I promise Francis." He lifted his head and pressed his lips to mine desperately.  
"Je suis désolé zis 'appened. I feel 'orrible," he mumbled against my lips. I tilted his chin up so he would look at me.  
"It was not you and you know it. You saved me Francis Bonnefoy. You rescued me and took me when you barely knew me. I cannot thank you enough for you've done for me. You saved my life," I said sternly. He looked at me, his sky blue eyes wide with tense uncertainty. "I love you Francis and I couldn't imagine having a more amazing husband or father for my child." He blinked and love and passion suddenly overtook the worry and pain in his eyes. He grinned and practically tackled me to the floor.  
"You are absolutely stunning, you know zat _?" he asked me as he looked down at me. I rolled my eyes and leaned up to kiss. _You'd think he was the one pregnant with his mood swings._ "I love you so much! I don't know what I'd do wizout you," he said as he pulled the two of us and two our feet in a quick, swift movement that left me breathless. He picked me up bridal style and carried me up the stairs.  
"What are you doing, you crazy Frenchman?" I questioned. He laughed and kissed my cheek, tickling me with the light stubble on his chin.  
"Showing you just _'ow much_ I love you," he said, waggling his blonde eyebrows. I giggled loudly as he set me down on our bed and began kissing my neck.  
"You're mad. I love you, but you are completely mad."


End file.
